Frost Bite
by Caridwen Angetueur
Summary: Beaten Father Broken Child Release your dragon Into the wild Place the ice Onto the burner Make him now Melt him later Freeze the blood Into crimson ice No one can hide From the Frost's Bite Warning: Blood, gore, cannibalism, and character death. Trigger warning, and those with weak stomachs and impressionable minds shouldn't be reading this. DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE
1. Chapter 1

_Beaten Father_

 _Broken Child_

 _Release your dragon_

 _Into the wild_

 _Place the ice_

 _Onto the burner_

 _Make him now_

 _Melt him later_

 _Freeze the blood_

 _Into crimson ice_

 _No one can hide_

 _From the Frost's Bite_

.-.

You know, I was once happy. A happy, perfect child. Beautiful, my mother said; with my snow white hair, pearl-skin, and teal eyes. I had a loving family, comprised of a beautiful mother and a kind father. I had loved candy, and I remember wanting a puppy.

I also remember being seen as a child-prodigy. A genius when it came to combat and weaponry. I knew every fighting technique, every different type of swordplay, and every weapon by heart along with possible modifications. I was a master of battle strategy, a true chess master along with several games that involved either colonizing or invading a new land. Politics, economics, and history were my fortes. My future was secured when I was 8.

Those things are gone now. It's almost hard to believe they ever existed. Now all there can be is blood. Blood and ice.

It was sort of like watching fireworks from up close; the explosion that threw my mother through the front window, the cold fire that seethed my skin, and the strange green ice that fell into my gaping wounds. I remember burning cold, my limbs seizing up as I thrashed in a smoldering pile of burning flesh and blood; and then cold. Nothing but cold.

Ironically, that painful fiery heat would be one of the things I missed the most about my past life.

The next couple months were kind of hazy, punctuated with a small nursery rhyme that constantly repeated itself on walls and on random scraps of lined paper. I remember the cold, and the putrid smell of alcohol. Hunger was a constant companion, gnawing at the pit of my empty stomach. The only warmth I had back then was from the blood my own father drew from me. There was pain, mind-numbing and fiery. Compared to the cold, it was an untamable beast that I couldn't help but be drawn to.

My father's pain was so much more enjoyable than my own, setting off a different type of warmth in my stomach as my small, blood-soaked hand buried itself into his gut; grasping at the slippery organs inside. I pulled out a small sack of bloody meat, recognizing it as a kidney. It didn't taste all that good, but at the same time, it was also my first time ever eating an organ. I grew more accustomed to it as I made my way to the heart, sating the hunger that had grown within me.

3 years of living alone with my father had clearly warped me, if only slightly.

I remember calling the police, my subconscious telling me that they wouldn't like that I was the one who killed him. I remember lying to them, telling them that someone had broken in and killed him; that I had hidden in the cupboard until I was found, and was forced to eat his organs. That there was blood everywhere, and that I had no idea who or where the supposed killer was.

It was my first lie. The first drop of darkness to corrupt my now-black and icy heart.

The police came about 5 minutes later, and I remember being found on the couch, sitting quietly awaiting their arrival. I remember a man with blue hair, telling me that everything would be alright. I remember him helping me to the bathroom, "helping" me force the organs up. I remember the burn of the blood coming up my throat, choking on chunks of bloody flesh. I remember the gnawing hunger coming back again twice as worse.

The man had held me during it, telling me everything would be alright, everything would be fine. I remember his electric-blue eyes that at the time seemed similar to my own. I know the difference now; how much colder my eyes were in comparison to his. The man was a fool to not notice it himself.

When in the hospital, there was nothing to draw warmth from except from my own wrists; and when they took away the blades I was left with nothing but cold. The cold was always there, never leaving. At first, I couldn't control it at all; water freezing solid whenever it was near me, people were unable to be in the same room with me after a little bit. I remember a woman with bright orange hair once and rather large breasts getting locked in a closet next to my room all night; I remembered the screams when they found her body frozen solid and dead in the morning.

I remember the scientists, the testing, the needles. I hated the needles, I hated the testing, I hated the scientists. I remember the satisfying feeling of burying one of the needles in a man's eye, watching his eye burst like a balloon and spray warm blood all over my face; I also remembered blaming another scientist for it, the cameras having been frozen over so much that security couldn't make out who had done it. The older man had never stood a chance at proclaiming his innocence; I remember how affective my tears had been on the police.

The blue-haired policeman had been there too, but he didn't seem as warm as last time. Maybe by then, all I could truly feel warmth from was blood.

All I have now is memories. Memories to remind me who I am, who I was, and what I became. Sweet, sweet memories to drive me even more insane.

They're the only things that are as warm as blood.


	2. Chapter 2

"Toshiro, it's time for your lunch." A voice calls, sweet and mechanical. I don't bother to glance back, listening to the plastic tray clatter to the ground and the metal door slide shut.

"You're as cold as ever, I see." The speaker in the corner of the room seems to huff, and I roll my eyes; keeping my back facing the window. Those damned scientists wouldn't get shit out of me. The slight ache in my stomach isn't noticeable to me, but to others it would probably be considered painful enough to cry over. I don't cry; my tears just freeze solid anyway.

The so-called 'pain' (if only people actually knew what starvation was like) is annoying however, and I do hate annoyances.

I gather the cold around me, caging it into my gut for a second before closing my eyes; focusing on a sheet of ice forming over the single-sided window to block out the scientist's watch of me. I don't bother with the camera, the drop in temperature would be enough by itself.

I open my eyes, breathing out steadily. I was getting better, I certainly had more control of the cold and ice. I turn around to face the other wall, grimacing at the tray of food. It was the same as it always was, tasteless bread with even worse butter. A carton of milk, several pieces of fruit. A lollipop that swirled with all the colors of the rainbow and several others that I guess could be considered colors if one was high on crack.

I leave the bread, grabbing the lollipop, the milk, and the slices of fruit. Grapefruit today, yesterday it had been strawberries, the day before was grapes. It seems they intended to rotate me through the entire fruit section of the food pyramid. How annoying.

I pop the fruit into my mouth, grimacing at the taste; 'normal' food as it was called tasted so disgusting. The only good thing was the candy. I pop the lollipop into my mouth, my sharp teeth crunching through it with one solid bite. I chewed the hard candy, swallowing it dry. It sated the hunger slightly, but did nothing for my craving.

The craving was my true torture, although the scientists did not know it. They didn't even know of the craving, despite how obvious I have made it.

I sigh, burying the desire to _eat_ down into my gut as I close my eyes; drawing the ice away from the glass and wrapping myself in it; shielding from view. I place my forehead against the icy wall, listening to the sound frozen inside.

" _He's frozen the window again, sir!"_

 _"_ _What about the new cameras? How is it holding up?"_

 _"_ _It ain't! Frozen solid; the connection's been cut off."_

 _"_ _Damn it!_ How _does he do that?"_

 _"_ _We'll have to wait until he removes the ice; keep on that camera in case the footage kicks back on."_

The frozen sound stops, and I sigh before letting the ice shatter around me. A quick glance at the clock showed me the time; 12:30. The therapist would be here in about 10 seconds.

 _10_.

I collect the coldness in the area, solidifying it.

 _9._

Shaping the ice takes work, thinning it to the perfect point where I could see through it and others couldn't takes even longer.

 _8._

 _7._

 _6._

I slide the newly-formed mask over my face, focusing on letting the coldness freeze to my face. The cold doesn't hurt, doesn't bite at my skin like it would for anyone else.

 _5._

I turn around, still sitting; the ice around me already freezing around me in a protective egg-shape.

 _4._

I rear my remaining ice and cold back, letting the room warm up. I collect it around me, suppressing it despite its screaming to be released.

 _3._

The door knob jiggled. The cold screamed for freedom. Not yet. Not yet.

 _2._

The door opened, a man walking in. He looked professional behind his square-rimmed glasses.

"Toshiro? Toshiro Hitsugaya?"

 ** _1._**

I let go of the cold, the force of the rushing power making the egg-shaped dome of ice around me burst into shards; the sharp ice getting shot like deadly missiles all over the room. The ice froze the window, snapped the camera from the wires, and slammed into the man ruthlessly. His bare face, neck, and hands freeze black; his optical fluid freezing instantly and blinding his eyesight. The saliva in his mouth no doubt froze as well, cementing his tongue to the roof of his mouth and his lips shut.

I didn't like it when they screamed.

The shards from my ice-dome speared through his suit jacket; ripping holes and baring his flesh even more. The cold seemed to leap for the bare flesh, the skin blackening to match the rest of his skin. The man collapsed, shaking and clutching at his eyes and mouth. It probably hurt quite a bit; frost bite normally did.

I stood from my place, picking up a shard of ice on the ground. I walk towards the pile of blacked flesh, kneeling down at his abdomen. I use the sharpest edge to cut through his suit, baring the skin to the cold once more. It blackened, and I waited before plunging the shard through his gut.

The still-alive man jolted before even more ice flattens him back to the ground. I growl, straddling his lap and ripping the shard of ice up his bare chest. I was hungry, _starving_ ; the cravings were going full force.

The first slash had only pierced through the skin and partially through the first layer of muscle; honestly, they keep sending me more and more ripped guys. Didn't they know that the more muscles there were the longer I had to spend cutting at them?

I bury the bloody shard in the bleeding wound again, I drag the ice down his chest once again, slicing through several layers until I hit bone. I smirk, the cold around me charring the inside of the man's chest black. I pay no mind, finding the first of my many courses.

The lungs.

Clearly this man was a smoker; his lungs already blackened and seemingly filled with tar. I sigh, digging the two large bloody sacks out and tossing them aside; leaving the esophagus connected so the man could keep breathing until he died of blood loss.

I crawl a bit lower, undoing his suit pants and sliding them down. I inch his boxers down as well, stopping when his hip was bared. I stab down with my ice shard, blood spurting up onto my ice mask. I smirk, slashing open the skin to reveal a kidney.

I pick it up, licking my lips happily. With a quick glance I affirm that the liver looked healthy as well; that would be next. With a happy grin, I move my ice mask enough and bare my razor sharp teeth. I open my mouth wide and take a giant bite, chewing up about half of the kidney in my mouth while my hand held the other bloody half. After a gory swallow, I shove the other side into my mouth; savoring the metallic and meaty taste.

I reach for the liver next, taking a modest bite to make sure the guy hasn't been drinking too much for me to handle. My acute taste buds picked up on whiskey, and with an upset sigh I drop the liver to the side as well. I eat the other kidney as well, leaving the bladder; I leave the intestines and empty out the stomach, eating it as well. Finally, I was at the heart.

The heart was beating slowly, about to die. I smirk, latching my teeth on but not biting through, a shiver crawling down my back as each slow beat sent a delicious buzz through my skull. Finally, my teeth clamp through and tear through it like paper.

I chew slowly, savoring the sweetness on my tongue. It had been nearly 3 weeks since my last true meal; the institution was having trouble getting therapists to come see me due to each one quote-on-quote 'disappearing' after they left for the day. As I ate the rest of the now-still organ, I wondered where my next food source would come from.

They had questioned me so much; why did the therapists suddenly disappear? What did I do to them? Why did I always freeze up the windows and destroy the cameras? Each question was always met with my customary silence; my face expressionless even behind my mask.

I swallow the last of the heart, staring down at the bloody corpse. Ice slowly makes its way up his body, freezing him solid. I nod once he's fully encompassed in the ice, snapping my fingers. The ice shattered, as well as the body. The shards of ice disappeared at my order, the blood left on the ground already frozen.

I smirk, rearranging the ice into the familiar words:

 ** _Freeze the blood_**

 ** _Into crimson ice_**

 ** _No one can hide_**

 ** _From Frost's Bite_**

I shake my head, chuckling at the little nursery rhyme before waving it away. I dissipate my mask, turning away to face the blank wall facing away from the window and the camera once again. The ice on the window melts quickly, reforming into a copy of the therapist. I manipulate the puppet, making him stand up and readjust his jacket before storming out. The ice still left on the window supplied me with the conversation.

" _How'd it go, Dr.?"_

"Abysmally, the patient refused to answer at all. Wouldn't even turn to face me." I mutter, listening as the therapist's gruff words repeated mine.

 _"_ _But you were so positive when you went in there! Are you sure you don't want to stay a little longer?"_

I shake my head, knowing that the puppet would copy. "I have spent long enough for today; I will return tomorrow evening at 2 pm to continue the therapy."

 _"_ _Oh… alright then, Dr."_

I make the puppet walk away, smiling to myself. I give the puppet orders; hide out in the freezer until 2 pm tomorrow, then bang wildly on the door and collapse. Stop fake breathing, and then after discovery and the corpse is left alone, melt and disappear.

That should certainly boost staff-morale.

Until then, I'd just revel in my spectacular meal and the memories of the innocence I used to possess.


	3. Chapter 3

"Testing… starts… now."

I sigh, watching as the sentries get into position; guns raised in firing position. I hold my breath, poised to wrap myself in an ice armor. The air was silent and still, both of us waiting for the string of tension to snap.

"Fire!"

Bullets fly everywhere, and I slam the ice and cold down as I cover myself in a solid sheet of ice. The ricochets send sparks flying, the miniature flames sending up steam when they made contact with the freezing air. I breathe heavily, feeling the ice strain from the constant rain of bullets.

"Cease!" I contain my sigh of relief, shifting slightly in my sitting position so that my twisted arms weren't so uncomfortable in the strait jacket. The ice mask on my face was welcome as sweat tried hopelessly to slip down my brow. I breathe deeply, preparing myself for what was next in store.

"Flamethrowers, positions!" I tense, the cold in the air drawing in on itself as it shied away from the flames. I was horribly weak to fire.

"Ready…." My eyes widened, and my brain went scrambling for a plan. Go for defense and the ice would melt and I'd burn, go for offense and….

My eyes narrow and I felt a sick grin cross my face. _What would happen?_

"Now!" the flamethrowers click on, and I draw the cold and ice into a tight ball around me; waiting for the perfect moment. The flames hit the ice walls hard, and I focused on turning the melted water back into ice as I fought to hold the shield as I waited for the right moment.

"We almost got him boys! Get a burn on that snow-white skin and drinks are on me tonight!" one of the men yell, and I felt rage freezing in my gut. Burn me, will they?

 _Why not fuck with them a little?_

"You'll have to survive first!" I yell out, my voice echoed by the ice and made louder. I release the cold power coiling in my gut, making the ice shield around me explode into millions of razor-sharp shards. They rocket outward, the flames from the fire being avoided by about ¾ of the ice. The fire stops as the shards bury themselves in flesh, pain-filled hands and now-frozen fingers dropping the guns in favor of holding bloody arms, chests, or necks.

About half dropped to the ground, blood spurting out on the snowy ground and turning the ice red. The other half gawked at their former friends and comrades, too shocked to even scream.

"They're not dead, calm down." I mutter, my voice barely loud enough to be heard. I focus on the ice, freezing over the wounds and forcing them to close. I even keep them from getting frost bite; aren't I so generous?

"Y-you _monster_ …." The head whispers, staring at me through my mask. Despite him clearly being unable to see through my mask, our eyes seemed to connect. I don't back down, and he doesn't look away. It seems we reached an understanding of each other, like a mouse does a tiger.

I look at his name tag, reading Izuru Kira.

The men carry off their own in stretchers, rushing them to the hospital. A blond-haired scientist rushes in, questioning some of the men radiantly. I didn't like the look in his eyes. He looks at me, rushing over.

"You spoke! They say you spoke! Please, may you speak with me?" I peer into his eyes, regretting my brash decision to break my silence. It was too late now, however. I might as well roll with it.

"…what's your name?" I demand, the man scribbling furiously in his notebook before answering.

"Just call me Urahara, and my little albino-recruit over there is Shirosaki; I will be your new head of science and overseer. I'm sorry to say that I just got here today." I nod, looking up to see a young male of about 16 to 17 jogging over to us with a clipboard.

"Sorry, doc; go' caught up questionin' t'a captain back t'ere." I raise an eyebrow at the heavily-accented, watery-sounding voice. Where was he from? I had never heard an accent like that before.

"That's quite alright, Shiro; I was just communicating with our new subject." I refrain from wincing at the term " _subject_ "; what a horribly demeaning word.

"I do hope this 'subject' you're talking about does not refer to me." I mutter, catching the albino boy's attention.

"Wow, cold one ain' 'e?" he chuckles, my eye twitching in exasperation at the already-annoying male. "I think I'll call him Kōri no ōjo jus' ta piss 'im off." He exclaims suddenly, and I felt anger well up in me.

"You _will not_ refer to me as the 'ice princess' thank you very much!" I yell, the ice ripping the strait jacket to let my arms free. Yells of surprise and fear sound out through the room, making me stop in the middle of getting up from my sitting position.

It sort of hit me in the face, their faces filled with fear. A childish thought came to mind.

 _Why're they afraid of me…? I'm just like them…._

After the thought left, I felt like slapping myself across the face. I wasn't anything like them. They had every right to be afraid of me. That's what I wanted. I wanted them to feel scared.

The cold air felt suffocating… I needed warmth again. It was so cold.

An ice shard formed in my newly-freed hand, and without a second of doubt I plunge it point-first into my gut. The pain blossomed beautifully in my gut, the warmth of blood covering my hands and chest. I felt satisfaction blossom, and I grunt as I shove the ice up farther; screaming when it brushed my heart.

The pain was hot, fiery and untamed. I felt my mask melt away, blood spurting up from my throat. I smile, my eyes rolling up into my head as I fell forward; passing out.

I woke back up in my room, an IV connected in my arm. There was a blurry white figure sitting at the edge of my bed, unfocused as I slowly woke up.

"Ya know, if ya hated the nickname tha' much ya coulda jus' told me." A familiar watery voice breaks through the haze, and my eyesight cleared and focused on the albino-male from before. I hold down a yelp, my mask forming instantly over my face. Shiro just chuckled, grasping the edge on the bottom and pulling.

"Too late kid; I already saw it, why hide it from me? They ain't recordin' in here anyway." I shake my head, stubbornly keeping the mask on my face. The other just chuckles, shrugging his shoulders at my resistance.

"Alrigh' t'en; but t'at looks uncomfortable as all hell."

We sit in silence, just kind of staring at each other. Finally, Shiro breaks the ice.

"So… why'd ya stab ya-self with an ice-shard?" he awkwardly asks, and I shrug, turning away.

"I was cold." I answer, keeping my words to a minimum.

"Ya control ice, shouldn't ya be resistant ta cold or some shit?" Shiro asks, and I smirk and shake my head.

"I can still feel it; it just doesn't hurt me. Pain is warm, pain and blood." I answer back, the other nodding.

"Guess t'at makes sense; I _hate_ tha' cold, no offense or anythin'." He replies, looking up at the ceiling. "So, 'm guessin' ya don' often open up ta people like t'is?"

I shake my head, "No, I haven't been exactly _talkative_ since I was placed here." The albino nods, still looking at the ceiling.

"Makes sense; I wouldn' wan' ta be here eithah." Together we just sort of sit there in silence, until the speaker turns on.

"Shirosaki, please report down to Urahara's office to discuss any information gained from patient #302." Shiro winces, and I feel a betrayed jolt shoot through me when I realized all he wanted was information out of me.

"Tha fuckah got no tact, does he?" the albino male murmurs, filling me with even more rage. He looks down at me, winking playfully.

"Whelp, t'anks fo' yer cooperation; Urahara will be down here pretty soon ta question ya as well!" he stands up, leaving the room and closing the door with a ' _click!_ ' of the lock. I lay in bed, fuming as the heart monitor beats pierce the silence.

It didn't take much to rip the metal door to shreds and off its hinges. I was escaping _tonight_.


	4. Chapter 4

I take no notice of the heart monitor, ripping the chord out of my arm as I stood up and walked through the ripped-open door. I look around the hallway I was in; the white being painful on my eyes.

It had been white back in the lab as well. Why did they insist on white? Was it a mockery of my hair color perhaps?

The cold mist follows me through the hallway, freezing windows into shattering and turning water dispensers into blocks of ice. Cameras froze over before they could catch me on their screens, and the paint crackled off the walls in streaks that seemed to resemble claw marks.

How fitting for a monster like me.

I reach a door with a key code, and I sigh in annoyance. I looked at the door, noting that it was made of steel. Probably the same stuff they used for the Titanic. I let a small smirk through my cold visage, raising my hand to easier control my ice. I use ice shards to drill inside the door, sending cold air and ice inside and watching as the metal froze over. In less than a minute, the door busted off its hinges, crashing onto the floor.

With no regard to the noise or the alarms, I step over the door and continue to walk down the hallway. I sighed at the lack of scenery once again; no windows or anything. Just more hallways. I notice a turn to the left, and I decide to take it; being met with an elevator. I hit the down button, waiting patiently for the elevator as the alarms blared.

I was met with an elevator full of security guards.

They were met with razor sharp ice shards to the neck.

The blood spattered on my face, neck, and hospital gown (which was way too big on me). The big men collapse, and I decide to indulge myself in a small treat on the way down. I quickly cut out their hearts, figuring that I wouldn't have time to remove the rest of the edible organs with the rate that the elevator was moving.

I took a bite of the one in my hands, the rest being in a small bag one of the men had on him. There had been several needles full of sedatives inside, and I had those in the pocket of my hospital gown. Who knew when they'd be useful?

The elevator door opens to another floor with just white. How annoying.

I step out of the elevator, watching as more men wearing security uniforms rush by.

"We must find the boy! He's dangerous, but _do not_ shoot on sight! Shoot to injure only if necessary, and sedate him!" The leader yells, and I chuckle as he turns a corner to the stairwell. The elevator dings, and I notice that one of the dead men's arms were blocking the door.

"Well, _you_ might make these halls a little bit more interesting." I note, using the cold to pick up all the bodies; the blood still pouring as they were moved. I take another bite of the heart in my hands like it was an apple, blood pouring down my chin grotesquely. I swallow the remnants of the organ, dipping my hand in the blood. I turn to the wall, the bright white wall that was now my canvas.

 ** _Beaten Father_**

 ** _Broken Child_**

 ** _Release your dragon_**

 ** _Into the wild_**

 ** _Place the ice_**

 ** _Onto the burner_**

 ** _Make him now_**

 ** _Melt him later_**

 ** _Freeze the blood_**

 ** _Into crimson ice_**

 ** _No one can hide_**

 ** _From the Frost's Bite_**

The blood from the words dribbled onto the floor, dyeing it red as well. I smile, the tune of the old poem playing in my head on repeat. I continue down the hallway, now in a much better mood, leaving the bodies strewn about behind me.

I reach into my bag, pulling out another heart and taking a hearty (pun-intended) bite out of it. The blood runs down my pale arm and onto my gown, but I take no mind. I swallow the delectably sweet meat, enjoying the slight metallic hint. I reach a pair of swinging doors, and I step through, shoving the half-eaten organ bac in my bag.

"Oh my god!" a nurse screams, fainting dead away and catching the attention of the other people around me.

"That boy!"

"He's covered in blood!"

"Is he injured?"

A loud commotion continues around me, and I felt annoyance building up. The air starts to freeze around me, and the windows and water dispensers started to gain a layer of frost. I sigh, continuing to walk past the still-shocked people and out the front door of the hospital. Several tried to stop me, but the cold didn't let them touch me. I walked out unhindered.

I took a deep breath of the night air, my teal eyes meeting the light of the full moon. The stars were very pretty as well, but they held nothing compared to the moon. The cold air seemed to sparkle around me, and for once I welcomed the frost compared to the warmth of the blood covering my front.

"Take aim!"

I slowly glance to the side, noticing a large group of men with guns surrounding me in a tight circle. I sigh, lowering my head to face the leader; the blond from the laboratory.

"What're they doing?"

"Is that boy what caused the alarms?"

The blond haired officer and I meet eyes for the first time, and I let a small smile grace my features. I kept the cold pent up in my gut, waiting for the right time.

"You will come with us and you will not resist!" the officer yells, and I shake my head.

"I repeat; you will come with us without resistance or we will be forced to open fire!" I look up at the moon again, taking in the soft white light. I close my eyes, feeling the cold gather around me like a hug with no warmth. Once again, I shake my head.

"Men, fire!" the officer yells, and my eyes snap open as the cold rushed out; forming armor around me. The ice settled against my body like a second skin, and most of it collected on my back as an almost familiar weight. Bullets ricocheted off the ice, sending sparks everywhere. The things on my back instinctively stretched to cover around me as I ducked my head down.

"What the hell?!" a voice yells, and I open my eyes to observe my surroundings. One glance told me what was on my back; wings. Wings made of ice, fused directly to my shoulder blades. They were massive, about 3 times my height lengthwise and about twice height wise.

"What is he?!" another screams, the bullets still firing.

"I don't know…." I whisper back, knowing that they couldn't hear me. I feel the razor-sharp ice-scales on my wings tingle, and I whip my wings around me to dislodge them with precise accuracy; nailing each one in a vital spot. Screams echo throughout the night, and I look up to see that none of the bystanders had been hurt.

Good, I may be a monster, but I wasn't a devil.

I stand there quietly, watching as the bystanders' rushed to the injured, nurses and doctors treating whoever was closest. I knew it was futile though; they were each spurting blood and the skin around the wounds were burning black from the cool fire of frost bite. There would be no survivors.

The pavement around me upended, spurting up water from busted water pipes that instantly froze. The sewer pipes must be freezing and bursting through the pipes; there'd be a mass scale explosion soon, they'd have to evacuate. The hospital wouldn't be standing for very much longer.

I guess it was time for me to leave as well.

.-.

 _That night, many witnesses reported that the beautiful boy with the massive dragon wings made of ice had taken flight. Some described him as an angel of ice and death when asked about his looks, the same parts being admired by each._

 _"_ _He had hair white as snow, skin pale as frost, and teal eyes brighter then ice. He was small, no taller than a child. He looked thin and small, but he was powerful."_

 _When investigated, the hallway the boy had been held was destroyed with broken glass everywhere, frozen water-dispensers, and large gashes in the wall. The doors had been ripped off their hinges, the security door found warped and frozen on the ground._

 _The elevator was splattered with blood, and the 1_ _st_ _floor hallway was strewn with the bodies of 10 dead men; each missing their hearts and having been stabbed in the neck with, presumably judging by the blacked skin and tissue, ice. A bloody message had been written on the wall, most of it having been smudged into something incoherent. A word that was made out, however, was 'Frost'. Authorities are theorizing that it is either the male's name, nickname, or a reference to his strange power._

 _The boy's whereabouts are unknown._


	5. Chapter 5

"That'll be 4.99, kid."

I grimace, handing over a $5 bill to the waiting cashier. He nodded, turning to type out my receipt. The cold struck out quickly, grabbing bars of candy and water; also snatching a large wad of cash from the register while the guy had his back turned.

There was nobody to see it happen; one guy was passed out by the slushies and the other was lounging around at the chip section. The TV in the corner was on, the channel flipped onto the news. I wasn't paying any attention, focusing on keeping my head of gravity-defying white hair underneath my dark hood and the tendrils of cold shoving stuff in my bag.

"And on other news, mysterious Ice Boy is still at large for second-degree murder! Police advise to watch out for a young boy with pale skin, teal eyes, and bright white hair! Back to you, Inoue."

I stiffen, shoving the last of the stolen stuff in my bag right before the guy turns around; making sure to pull the hood farther down to cover my face. He passes me my receipt, and it would've taken an idiot to not notice the questioning glance he gave me.

"Hey kid; why don't you take your hood down for a sec?" I shake my head, turning to leave before a clammy hand clutched at my shoulder.

"Take. Down. Your. Hood. Or I'm calling the police." The cashier threatens, catching the attention of the man browsing the chips and waking up the guy at the slushies.

"Dude, calm down; no need to go grabbin' the kid because of some news report. The hospital this 'Ice Boy' was last seen at is _hours_ away." The guy hanging out at the slushies speaks up, pulling himself to a standing position.

"Here kid, we won't hurt ya; just lemme see your face and we'll leave ya be. Better safe than sorry, right?" he jokes, and I suppress a groan at the hopeless situation; either hope this guy was an idiot or I'd be forced to clean out _another_ gas station.

That would make it the 3rd time in these past two days, god damnit.

I let go of my hood, letting the other man pull it up slightly; trying my hardest to ignore his horrid, alcohol-ridden breath and control my grimace.

I could tell from the other's eyes that he recognized me. Damnit.

The cold hardens to a point, and I pull the other into a hug, forcing myself to go teary-eyed.

"The-They made me do it! I didn't want to h-hu-hurt them…" I wail out, burying my head into the other's shoulder as I quickly drive the razor sharp ice shard through his stomach. It was sharp enough he didn't feel it, even as it pierced through his skin, stomach, and spine.

The man quickly went to pat my back, clearly trying his hardest to soothe me. "It's okay kid, I'm sure we can help ya get outta this." The other two men were both staring at us shocked, neither noticing the rapidly growing pool of blood at our feet.

"Wait… so he _is_ the kid on the news?" the cashier shrieks, recoiling backwards before slipping on the blood-covered floor. "What the hell?!"

The other two look down, noticing it for the first time as well. The man holding me traced the blood flow to the ice shard in his stomach, and his eyes widen as his mouth opens to scream.

I don't give him the chance.

The ice rushed over his spine, securing my grip as I ripped it forward; pulling out the entire spinal cord and forcing out his skull as his skin split in two like a snake shedding their skin. The half-crushed guts slopped onto the ground, blood spurting out like a crimson geyser and spraying all over me.

" _Oh_ SHIT!" the cashier yells, the guy who had been browsing the chip section scrambling backwards and towards the door; pulling out his phone on his way. My eyebrows furrow, and the cold snatches his wrist, twisting and freezing.

The man screams in pain, his arm bending and wrapping around itself as if it were made of rubber. The skin froze black, and with a small _push_ ….

The arm snapped clean off.

The screams tripled, the phone dropping and smashing underneath the man's thrashing weight. The cold slithers around the man's body like a snake, wrapping and squeezing harder and harder until each limb snapped off as well. The tendrils snuck down his throat, grasping his vocal chords; pulling them out one by one, each letting off a bloody ' _snap_!' as they were torn from the flesh. The man's neck finally caved in from the increasing pressure, the head popping off like a bottle cap.

I was thoroughly enjoying myself for a minute before I felt the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of my head.

"I… I have the police on the phone. The police are coming, I repeat, I have the police on the phone. There are cameras recording you; and the police are coming." The cashier shakily chants, and I slowly turn to face him, pulling down my hood so we could stare face-to-face.

Upon closer look, the cashier was a very ratty-looking teenaged boy. His hair was flat against his head, his two front teeth protruded from his thin, crackly lips. There were moles and acne splattered randomly across his face, as well as a skeevy-looking pencil stash above his lip. Everything about this man just seemed to scream _rodent_.

Rodents shouldn't be running wild in populated areas of civilization. They brought disease. This rodent needed to be trapped and disposed of.

Ice forms around the cashier on the floor, a small platform rising him off the ground as another ice base formed underneath. A bar connected to the lever, the bottom of the bar dotted with spikes. The cashier pales when the contraption is finished, revealing it to be a mouse-trap.

"Move an inch and those spikes come down." I supply, knowing that the added assurance of death would keep the man still. "Scream, and I'll _make_ them come down. You say the police is on the phone? Turn on the speaker and let them hear then; you won't be able to escape either way."

The cashier quickly moves to comply, trying his hardest to not shift his lower body lest the trap snap down and kill him instantly. He manages, turning on the speaker on his phone. I hold out my hand, the cold snatching the phone out of his hands and depositing it into my own. I smile down at it, amused at the rapid questioning coming from the officer on the other side.

"Thanks, I needed a new phone." I quip, putting it on the counter as I stared at the cashier.

"Now then, what do I do with you?" I wonder aloud, freaking out the other.

"What do you mean by that?!" he demands, and I shoot him an annoyed look.

"You're annoying, shut up."

The cashier shuts up quickly, fear replacing his indignity as he kept from moving on the platform. To my aggravation, I could hear sirens approaching rather quickly. The cold rushed to meet them, thick ice forming in the parking lot; a blizzard roaring to life.

An idea came to mind, and I smiled at the thought of an experiment.

It was rather cold due to my powers, and I force them to cease; sucking out every bit of cold out of the air. It quickly grew to burning temperatures, despite it being midnight. The ice that the cashier was placed on was quickly trying to melt, barely being held together. Sweat trickled unhindered down my brow; I'd have to warp up this experiment quickly.

I concentrated on the air flows, swirling my cold air around in the warm air quickly; the wind around us picking up speed. The air began to pick things up, and finally the control was wrested out of my control and nature took over. I smile as the roof flies off the building, sending police cruisers flying.

I had created a tornado. It looked to be about a class 3, nearing class 4. With winds this high, taking flight would be a difficult and dangerous task; but yet again, so would be chasing after me.

 ** _SMASH!_**

I look behind me just in time to see the cashier's head roll of his shoulders; looked like he was trying to escape the tornado and set off the mouse trap. Too bad.

"Come out with your hands up!" an officer yells into a megaphone, the fast winds pulling at their body as the tornado picked up speed. The walls of the gas station picked up off their foundations, the wind flinging them towards the police.

 _Looks like the tornado is a class 4 now._ I watch as one of the officers take aim, shooting a bullet into the rock next to me. I step away from it, eyes narrowing at the new threat. Upon a focused glance, it was clear the officer was shaking in fear; gun trembling so much that they probably couldn't shoot straight if they tried.

I smirk, forming shards of ice in the tornado through the cold wind, sheltering behind a leftover slab of wall as the shards are sent rocketing out in all directions uncontrollably. Ice forms around my back as I cover my head with my hood, screams of pain coming from the directions of the police officers as I crouched down away from the scene.

The plaster that had previously been shielding me was ripped away as the winds picked up speeds, the sky nearly black from swirling clouds; only the occasional flash of lighting mixed with the red-and-blue police sirens brought any light to the area. It was chaos all around me, and I grimace at the massive class 5 tornado. Clearly, this experiment had turned out for the worst.

Don't fuck with nature. Lesson learnt.

"Shit!" I yell as my small body is lifted up, sucked into the out-of-control tornado, and whirled around madly. The cold races to keep up with me, shielding me from debris and other whirling bodies. I struggle to regain control of the massive twister, the cold being wrested from my grip each time I reached for it.

"C'mon… c'mon... yes!" I cheer in victory, holding control over the cold with an iron grip; forcing the winds to twist to my advantage. I lie back in the winds, concentrating on keeping a hold on my bag, keeping control of the winds, and forming my ice wings on my back all simultaneously.

My wings finally form, curling around my back to keep from catching air flow and sending me flying before I wished to. I collect the cold air in my gut, forcing the winds of the tornado to rocket me up for a split second to observe my immediate surroundings to look for a viable escape route. I wouldn't be able to stop the tornado, not that I wanted to because this was awesome, but it would be bothersome to sit and wait it out.

With a forceful jolt, I'm sent airborne for about 5 seconds. In the distance I could see a large city; most likely Tokyo city. I plummet, being caught by the winds that I was forced to retake control of again. It took less time, now that I was used to the whirling energy around me. I count my rotations, guesstimating my angle and position before I became confident enough to let the tornado start to convert its potential energy into kinetic as I whirl around faster and faster; wings tensed in preparation for the throw. I could feel the centripetal force start to push back on me, and I try my best to scrunch myself as flat as I could.

 _This sort of feels like I'm a discus and the tornado is getting ready for a winning throw…_ I grimace, trying to arch myself in the winged-shape of a discus before letting loose control.

 _1…._

 _2…._

 _3!_

The tornado launches me, and despite myself, I let out a scream of enjoyment as I'm sent flying through the air like a rocket. The quickly-approaching city, which was clearly Tokyo, was still several 100 kilometers away. I try to elevate my lift higher, using the cold air to lift me up higher as I approached the peak of my trajectory angle. I seemed to float in midair when I hit the ark of my parabola, free from gravity. I unfold my wings, diving downwards towards the ground; the mist of the cold air rocketing after me as the full moon came out, illuminating the ice particles around me. I pull up right before I hit the ground, sending me soaring back into the open air of the sky.

"That was AWESOME!" I yell, flapping my wings to help sustain my flight; overcome by childish glee as I flew amongst the clouds. The clouds were dark grey, making the white of my hair and blue of the ice stand out, but I didn't care.

Which made me feel real stupid when the lightning hit me.

It made perfect sense now that I thought about it; tornado draws storm, lighting strikes, and water attracts and conducts electricity like metal to a magnet. And I decided to fly through a storm with massive (although, admittedly smaller than the first time I had decided to create them; 1061 meters in area is a little bit excessive) wings made of ice. Ice is frozen water.

You see my point?

The electricity makes my muscles lock as I plummet towards the ground, crashing through the roof of a warehouse and collapsing on the hard concrete. My back ached in pain from the impact, thanking my lucky stars that the cold was fast enough to cushion my landing. I lift my head, only to be met with a very awkward situation.

There was a woman sitting, tied to a chair, with a large man holding a gun to her temple while another had his pants down around his ankles. For a second, I'm very confused; and then I caught an eyeful of wrinkly, old man dick.

 _Awwwww… god, what the fuuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkkkk…. Why meeeee?_ I whine internally, cringing away from the about-to-be rape scene. The other men seemed just as confused as I was disgusted, and the large still-clothed man points his gun at me.

"Who the hell are you?!" he shouts, and I groan in annoyance before I send an ice shard through his chest, his heart and pieces of his vertebrae coming out with it. He collapses to the ground, and the other man whips around; sadly, giving me an even _bigger_ eyeful of old man testicles.

"Aw, c'mon gramps! Put that shit away, god damnit I don't know my age but I'm still too young for this!" I yell, sending another flurry of ice shards at him as I cover my eyes. The old man's screams are satisfying, and I peak a glance to see that he was now dead as well; the cold throwing his body across the warehouse. I sigh in relief, looking over at the woman who was still tied to the chair.

"…I'm guessing that's not comfortable?" I ask, and she slowly shakes her head at me. I nod, awkwardly looking around the room.

"So… where in the hell am I?" I ask, and the woman carefully answers back.

"About 80 and a half kilometers away from Tokyo city, if I'm correct." She answers back, before her caramel eyes lock onto something on my head. "You do know there's a Twinkie on your head, right?"

I reach up to my head, pulling out a Twinkie from my hair. It still looked in perfect condition, which was shocking to say the least.

 _This thing survived a class 5 tornado, being slingshot-ed by said class 5 tornado, and an old man dick? Holy hell, it's indestructible._

I unwrap the packaging, taking a bite only to cringe at the horrible taste.

 _It still tastes like shit though._

I look up at the other female to see that she was trying her hardest to not look at me, which just made everything more awkward. I clear my throat, catching her attention.

"So… I should probably free you, huh?" she nods.

"That _would_ be nice."


	6. Chapter 6

It was about midnight when I finally reached the city, my wings exhausted from the constant beating. I let out a sigh as I touched down on a skyscraper's rooftop, landing elegantly next to a homeless man; who dropped his half-eaten sandwich in amazement.

My wings melt off my back, turning into a cool mist that settled itself on my shoulders comfortably. I breathe deeply, stretching deeply and cracking the joints in my neck. I shake out my legs, both of which had fallen asleep on the long flight here. My eyes open, looking up at the moon and stars and pitch black night sky. I look back down and observe my surroundings, spying the homeless man sitting petrified in the corner.

"You're him, aren't you…?" he whispers, slowly crawling backwards. My eyes narrow, and the cold snaps out, grabbing him and forming ice around his bare wrists and ankles. The cold covers his mouth, muffling his screams of agony as the ice froze his skin and burned them black.

"Who do you presume me to be, exactly?" I question lightly, smiling nicely as I knelt down next to him. He stares at me in fear, and I prompt him with my hand.

"Well, c'mon; I don't have all night after all." I let the cold surge forward, pricking at him lightly. He jolts, stammering out a response.

"Y-You've b-been all over the n-news lately… fr-from your initial esc-cape to the d-damage you wrecked at th-the g-g-gas s-st-station. Everyone is t-talking ab-bout-t you." I nod, my smile fading as I mull over the news. Press coverage meant I'd have everyone from the police to government assassins hailing on my ass.

I stare down at the homeless man questioningly, and he quickly guesses at what I was thinking.

"I w-w-won't tell anyone I s-saw you! I s-swear!" he pleads, and I nod, smiling once again.

"Oh, I know; guessed as much anyway. You seem like a very nice person, but at the same time…" I trail off, eyeing him hungrily as his eyes widened in fear.

" _I just happen to be starving._ " I coo, a razor sharp ice sicle forming in my hand right as I shoved it into his neck-junction. Blood spurts up, coating my face and front as I rip sideways, severing the flesh and muscle. The cold squeezes tightly, popping the head and neck off like an exploding bottle cap. My mouth catches a mouthful of metallic, coppery blood; and I automatically swallow. The warmth from the liquid flows through me, and I wonder why I haven't done this before.

I tilt the man's frayed, fleshy remains of a neck towards me, latching my neck around as much of the opening as I could and sucking the blood into my mouth. I drank leisurely, sitting back on my haunches as the blood poured into my mouth freely. My razor sharp teeth easily severe the muscle and skin, causing more blood to spray onto my tongue. I let out a groan of satisfaction at the warmth, the cold writhing around me happily.

"Well, isn't this the most _fucked up_ thing I've ever seen?"

My head shoots up, the cold sharpening to points and covering me quickly. The other male puts up his hands defensively, his smile widening.

"Woah, whoa, whoa there buddy! I didn't mean to scare ya!" he exclaims, walking slowly towards me. "I just wanna talk."

I raise an eyebrow, forcing the cold to calm down a little; holding it back and letting the power build in case it was needed. The air around us was chilly despite the summer night, and the other lets out a small shiver.

"Jeez, ya can't make it a lil' _warmer_ , can ya?" he asks, and I glare at him coldly. He nods, rubbing his arms decisively.

"Guess not."

My stomach growls, and I feel my pale face flush in embarrassment. The other smirks, gesturing to the now-drained body of the homeless man.

"I interrupt your meal or something?" he asks, and I briskly nod. He chuckles, sitting down across from me and crossing his legs. I smirked as he winced at the blood, trying desperately to position his expensive-looking clothing so that it wasn't stained. He stares at me, shrugging his lanky shoulders.

"Well, don't let me stop you. I'll just talk while you eat." I nod, forming an ice shard in my palm and laying the body of the homeless man down on the ground. With a swift stab and drag, I had opened up the chest and lower abdomen of the man, revealing all his organs. I pick up a lung, taking a large bite as the other started talking.

"Well then, I'm Shinji; and I run an assassins-for-hire club." He starts out, and I nod to show I'm listening, digging out the other lung and swallowing it down after the first. I go for the stomach next, slitting it open and letting the acid and food pour out separately before chomping down on the remaining skin and muscle.

"We've been paying attention to ya lately, and ya seem like ya know what ya're doing when it comes to killing bastards," I nod again, inspecting the intestines before throwing them to the side. I go for the kidneys, popping one in my mouth and enjoying the other's cringe at the audible ' _squiissshh_ ' that the organ let out when I chewed.

" _Aaaaanyywaaaay_ , we're hoping that you'd like to join us. The money is good, and since you have a… uhhh… _unusual_ dining plan, you'd get free food as well." I nod, thinking it over as I chuck the liver away and pick up the heart; taking a _hearty_ bite out of right atrium.

I swallow, looking up at the blonde man questioningly; "2 things; is there lodging, and what's the catch?" Shinji looks surprised for a second before smirking.

"Yeah there's lodging, and nope, no catch. Just standard contract, a tenth of your earnings go to us, and if you're caught you give up no information about any of us, and vice-versa." I nod again, mulling over it.

If I joined, I'd have a place to stay, lodging, food, and an income. I was supposedly ensured safety if this dumbass (or any other that might work for these people) got caught. Getting out would be fairly simple if needed; these people are _human_ after all, not a monster like me.

I could see no major problems with this, but I'd have to tread carefully.

"Fine, I'll try it out." I answer, swallowing the remains of the heart and standing up. I was only up to the man's _waist_ , if that. He nods, cringing at the mess behind me.

"I'm gonna have to get used to seeing you covered in blood like this, aren't I?" he asks, and I laugh at his expression.

"Sadly, yes."


End file.
